


A Morning Like Any Other

by OwlPost7



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, lots of fluff, older fluff all the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlPost7/pseuds/OwlPost7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for anotherwellkeptsecret's prompt on Tumblr: "Sherlock says, 'I love you.' and blinks at his own confession."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Morning Like Any Other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [penumbra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penumbra/gifts).



It’s a morning like any other. Sherlock sits in his chair in the sitting room, hands steepled under his chin. He’d been in his mind palace, cataloguing the results of his most recent experiment involving the splatter patterns of liquids dropped from different heights, when John emerged from the bedroom.

“Morning, Sherlock.”

Sherlock doesn’t answer. John makes himself a cup of tea and sits in his own chair, mug in one hand, newspaper in the other, still wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown.

Sherlock finishes putting the last of his observations in their corresponding files and shifts his gaze towards John. It’s early, and his expression is still content and unguarded as it always is the first few minutes of the day, before he’s encountered anything stressful and the remnants of his calm from being asleep are still trailing into his wakefulness.

Sherlock takes him in quietly - the hair on the right side of his head is completely flattened against his skull; his eyes are not open to their full extent just yet, relaxed and slightly droopy. Sherlock watches raptly as John yawns a ridiculous little puppy yawn, rubbing one of his eyes with his knuckles - _do people actually do that?_   Preposterous. Ridiculous.

Adorable.

John’s started talking now, probably pointing out what he thinks are interesting details of the daily news, as if Sherlock didn’t already know anything of relevance that was going on in the world, but Sherlock’s not listening. Instead he keeps watching John, relaxed and soft and sleep-fragrant, bare feet curling as he stretches his toes.

Sherlock is so captivated that he doesn’t register the strange, warm feeling that begins brewing somewhere in his thoracic cavity. He’s so invested in looking at John’s bare ankles and his wrinkled pyjamas that he doesn’t realise the feeling is spreading outward, into his limbs and up his throat.

It’s a morning like any other, and all those things that Sherlock’s been meaning to say, always and he never has, bubble out of his lips before he has a chance to recognise that they are.

“I love you, John.”

A beat of silence. And another.

Sherlock’s body jerks into immobility, ramrod straight as his brain registers what he just heard. What he just _said_.

He blinks. Did... Did he just...

He blinks again twice in quick succession.

He looks up at John’s face, alarmed.

John looks as relaxed as he did a second ago, still reading the paper. Sherlock stays tensed into stillness as John slowly finishes the last of his tea and puts the newspaper down. Sherlock’s heart feels like it is struggling to break free of its confinement under his ribs.

Finally, John looks up and his navy eyes find Sherlock’s steel ones.

“I know, love.” He smiles a small, content smile. “Me too.”

He stands up with his empty mug in hand and takes a step towards Sherlock. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Sherlock’s head, then makes his way back to the kitchen.

Sherlock’s brain appears to have short-circuited. He’s quite resigned himself to living out the rest of his life in stillness until he hears John from the kitchen.

“Anything on for today? Thought we could go to Bart’s, Molly said she found an interesting growth in an autopsy that maybe you’d like to analyse.”

Sherlock slowly lifts his hand to his lips and finds them curling into a smile.

In a sudden flurry of motion he covers his face in his hands and leans back into his chair with a wide grin, a short laugh, and a small, sighed, “John.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Some people have asked me for my tumblr URL. Apparently I accidentally submitted this to anotherwellkeptsecret anonymously. I'm Sherlockyouidiot on tumblr.


End file.
